Aloha
by Jaded.Glory
Summary: To combine two different people from two different worlds is a very unpredictable event. It could blow up in your face if not handled correctly, yet there is the hope that in the end everything will turn out right. Will it work out this time? BC&xXx xover
1. Can I help you?

**Disclaimer:  
**I own nothing but the plot. Everything else belongs to Universal, and god help me I wish I worked there, but I don't. If anyone wants to sue me go ahead, you'll only receive a bucket of lard.

**Summary:  
**To combine two different people from two different worlds is a very unpredictable event. It could blow up in your face if not handled correctly, yet there is the hope that in the end everything will turn out right. To work together and save the world one stunt at a time is their mission. Now if they don't kill each other in the process.

**A/N:**

If anyone's actually read the first, started version of Mission: Aloha and this think is a rip off, it's not. I was one of the writers of the original, but I'm now carrying on the writing myself as I intended it in the first place, were the idea came from, Blue Crush, baby. Don't like it, too bad, don't read.

Same rules apply, Xander's alive and well and he didn't die, as the special feature of his death and the second movie stated. Those ideas are not welcome here, because I thought both were bullshit, as the Death of Xander Cage thing on the special DvD was the equivalent of soft porn, and xXx: State of the Union sucked ass, literally. Forget it existed and move on. And I envy those that haven't seen either. DON'T. It's not worth it.

Special thanks to Leigh, Anna, and Anjel for giving me the push to get this shit out of my head, as well as everyone else on the MRU forum. You guys fucking rock!

So without further adieu, I present the story. Enjoy!

* * *

_March 12, 2002_

It was one of those things that never ceased to amaze her. The way the icy blue deep seemed to swell up, creating a wall that looked as though the surface was as smooth as glass. Though, anyone that actually knew the waves, instead of taking a sideline's view from the beach, knew that they were anything but. These waves were deadly, take one wrong move and get stuck under the undertow; it was game over for you. No try again, no replay, it was over. Maybe that was what made the woman that sat near the surf love it so much. It was that very adrenaline rush that made all the difference. Because at any moment, the wave could make you, or tear you apart.

Her exact point was proven within a minute.

Bringing her hand to shield her brown eyes from the impending rays of the early morning sun, Eden watched as a daredevil made his attempt at the wave. He was a cocky sonofabitch. Though, anyone that was already there could probably just tell that by his earlier claim of him being able to 'take a wave better then any off the posers here'. Some tourists really needed to get their asses handed to themselves, more then others. Which was why she was waiting for guy to ultimately get his ass swept up in the wave. Taking these waves were hard, especially at Waimea. They weren't for the kiddies. They weren't for the dickheads that thought it would be oh so nice to prove themselves to locals that they could take a wave. Eden might have not surfed anywhere but back in the mainland or Hawaii, but she knew well enough there wasn't anything else like these waves on the planet.

Setting himself to get locked into the wave, she could tell the dude knew what he was doing… for the most part. The stance was good, the board was perfect for the wave, but yet it came down to judgment and execution. Even when they were setting clean, waves were unpredictable, and not doing what you were supposed to could get you in deep shit. Knowledge and experience taught her better… And so did coaching Anne Marie. God knows how many times she nagged at her ass for screwing up when she knew the other girl knew better.

Yet, that was probably something the guy obviously didn't have. He was missing one, probably both things, because otherwise, he would have zigged instead of zagged right into the side of the opening of the wave as it curled over and crashed. The guy was tossed over like a toy sail boat, only that he sank faster then one, his board flying into the air to only crash meters away into the water. Case over, point proven.

The young Latina snorted softly, shaking her head at the guy, watching as he head surfaced above the water. Kala and his crew were on their surfboards and from their waving their hands in the air and the mockful hooting she could see and hear on the beach, they were amused. They weren't the only ones either, a few people on the beach that were there were watching, too. There was no respect for the tourists that came here to get at a piece of the waves, especially when the locals were territorial on 'their beach'. You didn't mess with their waves unless you really could prove yourself otherwise, and even then, unless you had a name to back it up, you got treated like shit. And even if you did that, sometimes they still treated you like shit, but that was still really only with the pricks that were really territorial, mostly people were still friendly. Though in her opinion, Kala and his groupies were on the line of that description. They could be pricks, but they could be nice as fuck as anybody else could be.

But still, all was well on a typical weekday morning. The sun was just barely peaking over the horizon, making a halo of brighter sky surrounding the parts that were still touched by night. There were clouds in the sky, but nothing indicating that it would rain, with no weather reports on the surfer's hotline stating otherwise either. No choppiness in the waves either, and with the waves breaking so perfectly, they were begging to be ridden, they were forming and crashing in regular intervals. It was the perfect day for surfing.

The only thing missing from this picture was her friends.

Leaning forward, Eden stretched her arms out for her fingers to reach her toes, continuing the routine of stretching before heading out to take on the big boys. It was just her then. No one else but her on her lonesome on the beach.

Just her.

Anne Marie was off touring now, going where ever the waves were, living out the dream that she had for the girl. Matt was with her, following on her heels until football started, which was still some months away. Some people were really meant for someone, those two proved that. Penny was with her, continuing her school work while they were off in Australia for the spring, which of course made Anne Marie one of the happiest people on the face of the planet. There was so much good coming out of it finally, she supposed, sitting up again and working on warming up her shoulders, rolling them forward and then cracking her neck on each side to get rid of the stiffness that settled in her bones.

As for Lena, they were sharing a place together. New jobs where abroad from them, managing to land much better paying jobs at a surf store, and a bit of help from Anne Marie they could afford a beach home that was a few minutes roughly from their old shacked up home. It was hard leaving it, to say the least, but moving on to bigger and better things were a must. Especially when it was still right on the beach with its own little pier, and a pool in the back yard. It wasn't a bad arrangement.

Sighing some, Eden let out her lungful of air, unstressing her body, relaxing it as she straightened up again. Glancing up at the water, she realized that she was missing the tourist leaving with his tail between his legs, with Kala following after making sure that his ass left. He didn't seem to be hurt really, which was good because the coral could eat you up alive, there was no mentioning how many different scars she had herself. On the other hand, she really couldn't say that for his pride, if it was intact. The guys could be dick-faces, but he did deserve it. Tourists like that made the word tourist sound bad.

"You're not welcome here haole!" Kala shouted at the guy, his board tucked under one of his arms, while his free hand was pointing accusatorily.

"Don't come back, this is our beach!" That comment from Drew made her snort very unladylike at it. Some things really never changed on this beach. Or maybe they never did really. When it came to surfing, they were more on people like kids in a candy store looking for a sugar rush. For a moment, she absently wondered why she ever dated Kala, or why Anne Marie dated Drew.

Shaking her head some at the absurdity, she grabbed the wax out of her little bag that was sitting in the sand next to her. She wasn't going to catch any waves sitting around idly watch Tweedledumb, Tweenledumber make fun of the guy. And grabbing her board, she pulled it onto her lap as she opened the little tin labeled "Sex Wax" to begin getting her board slicked up so that it was coarsened up top. All she needed now was to slip off the damn board, especially at this damn beach; the waves were brutal, especially today.

Pushing some of her hair out of her face that seemed to escape the confines of her ponytail elastic, she pushed it behind her ear, glimpsing briefly up to the figure that seemed to come over to loam at her then. Rolling her eyes some, she immediately returned her gaze to the board, unimpressed as she finished her little task. "What'ya want?" she asked him her tone clearly inclining that she was annoyed. Pursing her lips some, she stood up, reaching her full height as she digged the back end of her board into the sand to make it stand up. At soon as it was securely in the sand, she crossed her arms.

"Oh c'mon…" Kala whined playfully, giving her shoulder a soft push. "Why you gotta be like that I just wanna say hi to you."

Shifting away some as he placed his hands then on her hips as he moved closer to wrap his arms around her frame, she slid his hands off her, fixing him with one of her looks. Kala took a step back somewhat, but not far enough to give her space to really bolt from around him. "See this is what I'm talkin' about, you're being bitchy again. What's goin' on, huh?"

Snorting softly at this, Eden shook her head in disbelief. "I'm not being bitchy, man," she told him, very much defiant.

"Could fooled me, you've been bitchier then usual since Anne Marie went off to go pro, you know? I liked it better," he began again, reaching for her. This time his arm wrapped around her midsection, pulling her against him, wrapping his arms around her in a backwards hug as he pretended to squeeze the life out of her, swinging her around like a little rag doll. "When you weren't so fricken uptight, woman. You're as stiff as a board," he commented, but finally letting her go as she started to squirm against him.

Fighting off his hands as he tried to grab at her again, she avoided his advances as best she could. "Yeah, well, you'll be dead as a board, if you don't learn to keep your hands to yourself," she warned, but there was a lightness to her tone then, a slight smirk forming on her lips as she wrestled his arm for her freedom, nearly loosing her balance and making him fall over.

"You know that ain't going to happen," he told her. Though, he reluctantly let her go, for the moment at least. "Say, how 'bout we take ya out," Kala then suggested, nodding in the direction of where his buddies that were floating in the water on their boards, almost like little sharks hovering and waiting for their prey to perk up. "No sandbar shit, you of all people should know that you don't need a warm up. You're ballsy as shit, you need to get your sexy ass out there with us… I'll even block for you…. You know ya wanna."

Whether or not if he was hitting on her, as he usually was, the offer sounded good all on its own. But he was right, she was ballsy and the only reason she really never went out there was because Anne Marie was really the one that belonged out there, not herself in her opinion. Sighing exasperated she didn't know what she was getting herself into. Shifting on her feet and rolling her head on her neck as she ran her tongue over her teeth, she tilted her head at him with her eyebrow raised.

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"For the moment, until I feel like annoying the shit out of you, again…. Yeah."

She snorted.

"…Fine."

* * *

If anyone stood out in this early morning weather, it would have been the man across the street in the parking lot. His tall and dark figure would have stuck out, aside from all those that were native, or as close to native as they all were there. There was nothing bright about the clothes he wore, and easily made him stick out like a sore thumb, if anyone was looking. There was no hibiscus flower shirt that was like that of the surfer that got kicked off the beach. Instead in contrast, he wore a grey business suit that would have looked funny in such a setting if it was any other man. This man was made for a suit, and some would even say that he was born in one. 

Bringing the binoculars up from his pocket, sure that he would not be spotted by anyone's eyes, he focused his sights on the woman that was working on her board. Hitting a button on the side of the contraption, he zoomed in once, and then again on her figure, making sure it was the person he was after.

"Is she the one you're after, sir?" the ear piece spoke into his ear. Glancing briefly from the corner of his eye, he looked to him as he watched him pack the board up, into the back of the pick up truck, before looking back through the binoculars.

"Affirmative, objective acquired, go home and take care of your pride, Agent Connors, I'll take care of the rest," Gibbons answered back, as he spoke into the mouth piece. There was no doubt in the older man's mind that he would be able to do what he had come here for. He doubted highly that he'd have much as a problem with her then he did with his earlier experiment. Hopefully, he didn't have to put her through a test to see if she was what he was looking for. He didn't feel like dropping off another one off in a far off country to use as a distraction. It took too long, and it spent way too much money. And overall, it was a little too much of hassle in his opinion.

But then, he supposed him watching her was enough of test if he really thought about it. He might not have had a clue about surfing, but he did know that it was dangerous. Dangerous as in, you could die if you weren't so careful, and that was probably what he needed. Young, smart and daring. Attitude was optional, but he just hoped that he would end up with less of an attitude problem, especially with authority. Even if it did work out previously on more then one occasion….

Of course, it was something that he reluctantly like to admit to himself. It might have worked out for Xander but that didn't mean it would work out for her necessarily, would it? Well that was if she accepted his little offer, which he hoped she did.

* * *

Digging her hands onto the water, Eden paddled as solidly as she could as she turned her board around. The next wave looked like it would be big, not as big as they came, but enough that it made her stomach bubble with anticipation. It wasn't often that she hit up these 'little' gifts of Mother Nature, especially when Anne Marie was around, preferring to give the other girl the spotlight. Which she did now have wrapped around her little finger. 

But now Anne Marie wasn't there. It was just her and the wave. Everything else didn't matter to her in the slightest.

Keeping her pace steady on both sides, she attempted to gain some speed before the wave decided to pick her up, getting her arms to paddle even harder as they could. Feeling the pick up, the water sprayed up against her from the sides, she pushed herself up onto her knees, and then crouching before getting up fully, bending her knees as she tried to keep her balance on the board. The wave was picking up height and she felt the little dropping sensation in her stomach as she dropped in on the wave, gliding down as she curved in to get herself locked in under it before it curved over.

Eden ducked her body down, crouching more so as she tried to keep her balance, leaning over to steady herself as her hand brushed against the glassy surface of the face of the wave, the rail of her surfboard being the only thing sticking into the water as she went. The crown of her head brushed against the crest as it crashed over her, splashing over her face and down her shoulders. She grinned a bit, feeling it run down her body, loving the crispiness of the water, but she kept going, not letting it distract her as she pushed on, sailing through the tube.

Though, moving carefully, she dropped out of the wave, managing to make it out of the shoulder before it swallowed her. It wasn't like a perfect ten, if a tad on the sloppy side, but she didn't care. The thrill of the ride was enough to bring an even bigger grin to her face as she crouched back down on the board, lying on her stomach as she paddled out of harms way.

However, as another wave came up, she took a breath as she ducked down with the head of her board, cruising  
under the water out of harms way. The force alone was probably able to knock her off, but she held steadily on to her board, coming up from underneath the water to take a gasp of air when she reached the surface. If the waved didn't get you, the undertow would.

Shaking her head to toss back the hair out of her face, that came out of her scrunchy, she began once again paddling towards where the guys were. There were a few calls of 'nice one' and 'way to go' from some of the other people that were out there on their boards as well. But what really stuck out was Kala.

"See I told ya! Don't need those ankle busters to get you all warmed up," Kala said, his voice sounding triumphant, a smirk apparent on his face as she managed to make it up to him, despite the strength of the water current against her with each wave. Her arms were burning by the time she reached them with all the effort she put into it.

Snorting softly, she looked over at him. "Yeah, well excuse me for wanting to warm up a bit, get some good waves in before I risk breaking' my neck," she told him, raising her eyebrows at him, giving him something akin to a half smart-assed look.

Kala's only response was to smirk even more the he could already, if it was even possible. But if he was about to retort anything else as they held their gaze steadily, it was lost as JJ opened his mouth. "So Eden, when you gonna take my offer to take you out babe?" That made her chuckle as she sat up some on her board, her palms flat, pressed against the top to balance somewhat as the forming waves seemed make them drift.

Regarding the smaller male, she looked over her brow quirked mischievously. "Maybe when you hit puberty," she told him, giving his arm a playful little shove as she leaned over a bit to touch him. It wasn't really meant to be mean, but it was true. He was what? Seventeen? And he wanted to go out with a twenty year old? That in itself was pretty laughable, especially when he barely reached her shoulder height. He was really nothing more then a big kid in her opinion. A big kid with a bit mouth, with a hairdo to match both.

"Meaning you don't have a chance in hell, bro," Drew chirped up at him, earning a disapproving look from him.

"Yeah, yeah…You just wait, when I hit eighteen she'll be begging to go out with me." That comment made her laugh. Hard. Now wasn't he a little cocky shit? Yet, she couldn't blame him; he was adorable in the annoying way. Of course he wasn't her type in the slightest.

Nope, not in the little itty-bitty slightest, she thought, looking over a Kala once again, while the others just laughed  
some more. JJ didn't seem pleased by this, even if he didn't say anything. The frown that she could see a bit behind the confides of his glasses was enough, but it was really all in the game of fun.

Though, she turned her attention over behind them "C'mon, let's get s'more waves, I got to get another little somethin' in before work, man," she told them sliding down and resting her stomach on her board again and paddling.

* * *

By the time she reached work, Eden was scuttling through the front door of the surf shop trying to put her shirt on over her bikini top. She would have had no qualms about leaving it off, as she was still damp from her activities, but the fact that she was on the job made her cautious to do so. She wasn't afraid to show off some skin, not in the slightest, as they really didn't have a dress code, but the fact that it sometimes brought more attention on her then she cared to have wasn't exactly great, especially when you spent half the time as a clerk. 

Pulling it over herself, she smoothed the black tank top over and down to where it reached her jean shorts, pausing a moment as she saw Lena behind the counter already.

"You're here early," Eden commented, her brow quirking ever so slightly.

The blond was standing behind the counter, hunched over with her chin resting on the back of her hand. Not surprisingly, there was snickers bar hanging out of her mouth while she was reading a surf magazine. Munching on food seemed to be her specialty. She looked a bit tired too, but then Lena was never really the morning person that she was, getting up at five in the morning to shave surfboards into shape, while also working out with a quick run or doing pull ups on a bar, or just something where she was doing any type of activity. Personally, she didn't know how Lena was able to sleep for as long as she did, but at the mention of surfing, the girl was more awake then having a caffeine rush. There was just some things in this world that were strictly Lena.

"Or maybe you're just late," Lena replied as she grinned a little bit weakly, taking another bite of her candy bar. She was a little perplexed for a moment, until Lena pointed at the clock on the wall.

Closing her eyes, Eden pinched the bridge of her nose. She was late. "Oh… Shit!" Before the other girl could reply, Eden was scrambling towards the back of the store. Her pace was hurried, moving through the doorway to where the time clock was to punch in. She honestly didn't know how she was late. Well, then again, she was reluctant to pull herself away from the thrill of the ride of the ocean. Always saying one more time, and then doing it again, and once again after that was a way to be late to work, she knew. It had gotten them into way too much trouble back at Lanakai.

Grabbing her card out of the card holder, she looked over her shoulder towards the back office where the office of the owner was. The door was open with the lights off, meaning that he wasn't yet there yet. Sighing thankfully, she knew she wouldn't be scolded for not being on time, at least to her face, this time. Yet, it still wasn't as bad as the anal bitch that was in charge at the hotel.

Turning her attention back onto the time clock, she stopped as she heard Lena's name perk up from o  
utside. "Don't worry about it, I already punched you in," she told her, coming to stand on the side of the doorway. Her head was tilted to the side, a lazy grin forming on her lips as she looked expectantly at her. Eden didn't know what was with the intensity of her gaze, but it suddenly made her curious, if also somewhat unsettled.

"What?" she asked looking back over at the card holder, sliding the little card back into the slot where it came from. Yet, Lena didn't seem to want to answer her. Turning her sights back onto her when she didn't answer, she crossed her arms at Lena who was still giving her the look. "What?" she repeated, trying to do her best intimidating stare, but being that Lena knew she didn't mean it too much, kinda dampered the effect.

"Where'd you end you goin'?" she asked Eden, her face dancing with suggestion as if she knew something that she wasn't supposed to be knowing.

Staring dumbly at her, Eden just shrugged at her. "Waimea," she told her raising her eyebrows at her like it was the most obvious answer. Which it actually was, didn't she always go surfing in the morning Waimea if she could? Sure, she wasn't going as often as she liked without Anne Marie around now. And sure it was dangerous as hell to go alone, especially at Waimea, but when it came down to it, she went there unless the waves weren't too choppy, or unrideable. Even then in the rain, during a storm, she was hitting up the surf unless it was lightening out. Yet, again, she still didn't go out much anymore.

However, Lena's demeanor remained the same. "Really?" Lena said, still trying to pry some more. At what, Eden could only guess, and groan mentally as she still tried to get something out of her. What was her deal?

"Yes, really," she told her, flatly, as she moved passed her back into the main store area. Without turning around, however, she could hear Lena following after her, the sound of her flip-flops clicking softly against the floor. She tried her best to ignore it, but it didn't seem to work. And stopping in her tracks, she turned and leant against one of the shelves with her hand. "All right, what's goin' on?"

Her question make Lena pause in her own steps, her face suddenly going a tad devoid of emotion, even if she could still see something lingering in her eyes. "Lena, c'mon," she said, still staring the girl down. What was with everyone today? Honestly. "Lena," she just continued to repeat, her tone becoming more demanding, more stern.

"All right, all right," she said, holding her hands up, giving her a sheepish glance. "I just got off the phone with Jay and I heard something about you have some frisky business going on while you went out surfing. So who's the lucky guy, huh, you hooch? Inquiring minds want to know," she told her, giving her shoulder a playful shove.

"What guy?" Eden asked, her face frowning deeply, at a loss of what she was referring to. There was no guy that she was getting frisky with, especially on the beach. "I didn't hang out with anyone, or get frisky with anyone. I mean… I ran into Kala and the lackeys but I wouldn't exactly call it-"

"You were getting frisky with Kala?" Lena interjected before Eden could finish her sentence, her jaw literally dropping open with her assumption.

"No…. What the fuck, man, you think I got frisky with the caveman? Not if he gained twenty IQ points," she hastily defended, giving her the best what the fuck looks she could muster. Not in a million fucking years would she think about going back down that road with him. It was water under the bridge that would never travel back up stream. Sure, their behavior wasn't exactly unfriendly; it wasn't exactly innocent either, but still.

"I know, but I mean, why would you hang with him? Him of all people?" Lena returned.

Eden just shrugged her shoulders. "I wanted to surf, he offered to block if any one else wanted to give it a shot cause he got tired of me sitting off to the side, big deal. It's not like I'm going out with him again," she continued to tell her, noticing the look of distaste on her face.

Of course, she didn't like Kala, not really either with really the exception of his buddy except JJ who was probably the nicest of the bunch. Still, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. They went out, he cheated, and of course there was really no surprise there. It wasn't something that she liked repeated, now or later. But her problems seemed to be carried onto her friends, especially with Anne Marie dating Drew. However, Lena never liked Kala, at all, even from the beginning. Maybe if she had listened to her, she might have no bothered with him in the first place. But then, Eden was a stubborn person, not much of a success rate there in her favor.

Lena's face seemed to brighten up with that statement some. "So there's nothing going on between you two?" she asked, her mood picking up again.

"Absolutely nothing."

"Okay," she said without another thought, the topic dropping from her mouth almost instantly. Giving her own little shrug, she headed back towards the counter, leaving, as per usual, Eden to watch her go off a bit baffled, and somewhat amused. Lena had a one track mind, she really did. Eat, sleep, surf, investigate the low down on her friends and the move back the first, as demonstrated with her picking up her snickers bar, and finish it off where she left off.

Shaking her head at this, Eden moved back towards the back office again, she stopped in the doorway. "Gonna go do inventory," she told her before moving inside, but calling back, "If you need me, you know where I'll be."

* * *

It wasn't long after Eden went into the backroom when the front door to the shop opened up again. The bell chimed that was on the door, making Lena look up inquiringly towards the noise to see who was. Strolling inside came a tall man with broad shoulders, with a finely pressed suit to compliment them. He was definitely something that stuck out more then sore thumb as he walked through the isles. Business man, more then likely, but a surfer? She wouldn't bet her life on it. 

He seemed to walk through the isles almost as if he was appraising the shop, letting his eyes roam over the shelves that were stocked with everything a surfer could want in merchandise. Surf boards, boogie boards, wax, towels, and everything else imaginable seemed to litter them, and everything else in between. In short, it was a surfer's paradise that seemed to not even phase the man one bit. His eyes never lingered longer then a moment on anything, his task sent forth to head all the way to the back to the counter.

Straightening up for the potential customer, Lena smiled friendly at the man. "Hi there, can I help you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly as she tried to figure him out, almost like a little kid looking up curiously at an adult. There was something off about him and it wasn't just that his clothes didn't fit the typical Hawaiian local or even for a tourist. Just something she couldn't place…

The man came to a stop just before the counter and nodded some, looking around the shop once more, as if looking for something. Though, he turned his attention back on her after another pause. "Excuse, I'm looking for Eden Masters. Is she here?" he asked her, his tone coming off rather sleek and articulative. It was almost like honey that the words rolled off his tongue, like he'd said those words a million times before. Like business man, with more class and etiquette. To say she nearly gapped at the properness of it all wouldn't have been too far off. "I need to speak to her about a matter, it's actually quite important," he said, then further explaining.

"Uh, yeah she's in the… back… Through there," she told him a bit cluelessly, pointing over her shoulder towards the door that led into that direction.

Taking it as his permission to go forward, Gibbons nodded at the woman before he walked towards the door. "Thank you," he told her, heading through the doors and letting his face sober up, and become yet again serious as he walked on through.

His eyes looked around, trying to figure out where she was, because he didn't see her instantly like he figured. However, he heard a grunt and some shuffling noises, like that of things being pushed around against a cement floor. Following the sound, he found himself walking towards yet another door, and he wondered absently if he was going to have to walk through another or two, maybe even three doors before he found whom he was looking for.

But that wasn't the case he saw as he walked into what seemed like a garage full of boxes, some open, some still sealed with tape, along with wooden crates to accompany them. Surfboards were stood up against walls, while some were hanging on shelves, and everything else imaginable was thrown around the large area.

Gibbon's eye quickly focused on the one that was making the noise, and the one that he was seeking. She was moving around boxes and crates that were stacked up on the one end of the room, to the other. They were pretty big, but that didn't seem to stop her from picking them up or dragging them across the floor to move them around, her goal set on whatever it was that she intended. For a good minute he stood there just watching and waiting for her to notice him.

"Listen, you gonna just stand there all day or something? I got things to do and I don't need anyone that don't belong here, down here," she said matter-of-flatly, not even glancing up at him once. A tiny hint of a smirk creased his lips at this, so maybe she did have a bit of an attitude, observatant too.

"I'm looking for Eden Masters…. Are you her?" he asked her, raising a calculative brow in question at her. He knew it was, but that didn't stop him from asking it to her face. You could tell a lot about a person within the first few minutes of meeting them. She might have want he needed, but that didn't mean that if she didn't have mind for it, well, then she wasn't the person for the bill.

Though, she continued her work, reaching underneath one of the 'smaller' crates and hefting it up with a small almost inaudible grunt. Walking a few paces towards where all the others she dragged off were, she placed it on top of the growing pile, blowing out a heavy huff of air, as she leaned one of her arms over top of it. Wiping some of the sweat that already accumulated on her forehead on her shirt, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Depends on who's asking."

_**Tbc…**_

**AN:**

That sums it up for the first chapter. Second one should be up within the next week or so as I'm almost done with it. Check back soon, and leave comments!


	2. A Mission's a Mission

**Disclaimer:  
**I own nothing but the plot. Everything else belongs to Universal, and god help me I wish I worked there, but I don't. If anyone wants to sue me go ahead, you'll only receive a bucket of lard.

**Summary:  
**To combine two different people from two different worlds is a very unpredictable event. It could blow up in your face if not handled correctly, yet there is the hope that in the end everything will turn out right. To work together and save the world one stunt at a time is their mission. Now if they don't kill each other in the process.

**A/N:**  
Whoo hoo, new chapter. Lots of action in this here. Don't like guns, shooting, yadda, you've been warned, though it wouldn't be a xXx fic now without it. Anyway, enjoy the next installment of this fic!

* * *

_**8 months later**_

**Uptown Philadelphia  
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**

The woman ran as fast as she could, avoiding the onslaught that threatened to overcome her. Her pace was hurried, her feet padding against the floor as her boots clicked hard enough as she treaded, making echoes of sharp sounds that bounced off the walls. Behind her and far back she could hear the shots that were aimed, meant to hit their intended target, but missing terribly as they bounded off in directions that were not anywhere close.

Between parted lips, the exhaling of breath was harsh, her chest heaving with lack of oxygen. She was used to a good run, but this was ridiculous, but then she wasn't usually ducking, rolling around, shooting… and getting shot at. Curving around a corner in the office cubicles, she felt something wiz past her ear, imbedding in the nearest wall. Turning on her heel, she spun around quickly, her finger squeezing the trigger on the handgun as she continued to move.

Two of her own rounds fired at her attacker, landing in the plaster walls, dust sprouting in different directions as it collided. Yet, it was only two that fired, the barrel of the gun clicked as she tried to fire more, but the gun was empty. "Shit," she cursed, lowly, as she tried to pull the trigger again, hoping that it was just her imagination that made her hear the sound and that she wasn't out of another clip. However, her theory was proven wrong when she tried and again, and again once more, there was the sound. She was running out of bullets fast. Twisting through another one of the tall labyrinth of tall, towering desks, a groan of frustration came from her then, and she could only turn around and try to dodge the next spray of bullets that were so intended to hit her.

Yet, it didn't seem to want to work as planned.

With a small cry of pain, before she even knew what was happening, there was a stinging sensation running through her nerves, making her lose all sense of balance before she clambered into the nearest office room workspace. The hand that wasn't suddenly hurting reached out to steady herself on one of the desks, but only succeeded on making her soften the landing, but not much any better. Landing in a heap on the tiled floor, she grunted, just adding to the overall pain effect as she felt like she got the wind knocked out of her.

This was definitely not something she had in mind, Eden thought as she panted, glancing to see if she could yet see her attacker. Swallowing harshly, she tried to sit right back up, pressing her back into the side of the desk for cover for the moment. He wasn't there yet, but he was getting close, the sound of his own feet making light taps on the floor. Where exactly, she'd give it twenty feet maybe thirty.

Exhaling quietly, she tried to still the beating of her heart that was beating so heavily it was like her heart was trying to escape the confinements of her ribcage. Like it wanted to escape her, as much as she wanted to escape this hell. It was starting to slow, bit by bit, but she'd need to get moving again, soon. Brushing the long dark strands of her hair out of her face, her brown eyes focused on the very thing that caused her to fall… The bullet graze upon her right arm.

Son of a bitch.

The path of the bullet struck her at the top of her arm, just a bit below the hinge of her shoulder. There was a nice big gapping hole through the leather jacket that she was wearing then, making her clearly see the damage that she was trying to withstand. It was no thicker then the width of a bullet, the wound, yet the sight of it's red glare was in itself unnerving. Not too deep, being just a graze, but no doubt she'd be getting stitched up after this… If she made it out… If Gibbons and his lackeys showed up.

Echoes of the footsteps brought her attention back to the fact that Mr. Fabio-wannabe, also known as Harper DeLucca, was still hot on her ass. The ever so presently tall man was just able to look over the tops of the cubes and no doubt knew where she was now resting for the moment, curled up against the inside between the wall and one of the chairs. She shouldn't have let the playboy looks really fool her, he might have looked like a male magazine model, but he was smarter then one…"How's your arm, I got ya good didn't I? If you want to come out now, I'll kiss it and make it all _better_, and we'll call it even."

… But not by much… If he even thought that she was going to fall for that line, he was sadly mistaken, or even too far gone with his little psychotic edge he was sporting around with.

Now if she could get out of her and make it out intact and alive. The entrance was only… thirteen floors down, and the elevator was just right outside the room. But the problem was getting to there. It was a long run without too good of cover, and she might have to make that if the guys didn't decide to come on time.

What the hell was she going to do, she thought, glancing around, her eyes focusing underneath the desk…

-------

Cocking his head to the side, Harper's flowing blonde hair shifted over his shoulder, bright and almost radiant even in the dimness of the empty room. His lips were pursed arrogantly as he shifted forward another step, slowly. Slow, not rushing it, all he needed was the bitch to run again, and all he wanted was to end this. The sooner she was dead, the sooner his ends would be tied up, and the sooner he could get out of this damn country.

He wasn't so sure who the woman was working for, who sent her to snoop in on him, but he didn't care. It would be of no consequence to him. It wouldn't matter anymore.

Carefully, his eyes watched the desk for her to make any move to come forth from it. Once she did, well, it would be the last thing she'd do, he thought, his lips curling up sadistically into a smile. Resting his finger on the trigger, he put very little pressure on little metallic button, posing ready to shoot without any hesitation. Though, if she didn't come out soon, he might as well come to her, because that was seemingly more going to be the case, he noted as he strode forward.

There was no more movement within the desk, or any that he heard. Either she was planning to form a surprise attack or he might have just terrified her enough to not move, he wouldn't have been surprised. She seemed to be all talk and with no real action behind it when it came down to it. It was such a shame really. He was actually starting to like her, feisty with a sharp tongue, his kind of woman. Yet, she wasn't. A betrayer maybe, a little manipulate bitch that really had him going there for a while, but not someone he had under his thumb, but rather more like a rash on his ass. And the fact still remained, she wasn't on his side.

Such a damn shame.

"It's your last chance, girly. I know where you are, and trust me, it's not going to be pretty if you don't give it up. I promise, if you come out, we'll talk this over and we'll go our separate ways. You won't hear from me again." It was a lie, he knew, but he was starting to get a little desperate to end this charade. Especially when she still didn't move to come out, yet again.

Moving to the desk that was next to the one that she was inside, he hovered over, just to the side. Like a cat waiting to pounce on it's prey, he waited another moment, as if the mouse would be eager to get it's cheese, to spring the trap.

But the damn woman was being stubborn and still didn't move to face him. Better off going to her anyway.

Propelling himself forward, the man twisted to the front of where she should have been, firing rounds wildly around the inside. The sound was near deafening, the sound of gunpowder as it exploded in the chamber, repetitively, spraying bullets as fast as one could empty the gun. Cracking of wood that split on impact, and the sound of screeching metal against metal clang loudly, were all that could be heard while sparks emitted from the computer that became victim along with the butchered desk and chair.

When it was all over the computer screen flared to live, rupturing apart as the bullet reacted hazardously, igniting it to life literally. Within a flash, the computer burst apart in a dramatic show, flames springing forth, dancing in an array of blue and red-orange flames that scorched everything in it's path, including the expensive silken shirtsleeve of Harper as he moved to protect his face.

He screamed in agony, a cry of desperation as he recoiled back, stumbling towards the chair that was in the desk behind him. Nearly crashing in it, he tried to swat the flame that were eating away at the shirt and heating against his skin. It sizzled, the smell of burnt cloth filling his nostrils as he continued to try and smother the flames.

It took a few moments, but they finally were stopped, leaving the scorched remains of the sleeve, leaving some skin exposed that was pinkened from the heat of the flame. Not burnt, thankfully, he'd got them before there was any real damage, but he had a feeling some welts would form where the flames bit him good.

Looking towards the desk at the damage, there was no body slumped against the floor in an ill display of death. In fact there was nothing there but the desk, the chair and the burning computer screen. There was something missing... Her.

Harper took two steps forward, his eyes looking to where she should have been. She should have been there dead! He saw her fall down and into the desk. Yet, the space was empty, with no sign of her. The only thing that he could see, as his eyes landed on the floor, was a smudge of blood which seemed to be in the shape of fingerprints that led underneath the desk to the next. The bitch crawled underneath...

"Where'd you go Eden?" he said aloud, glimpsing around the room once again. Though, the words weren't uttered from his mouth a moment before there was another sharp pain, this time to the back of his head with a sickening crack. Metal against skull.

Falling forward, he crumbled to the floor as his vision swam around him. He stars, the galaxy and everything from planets to suns speeding across his sight. His skull throbbed. The pain searing against his brain and steadily moving to the core. He groaned in pain, gripping the sides of his head with both hands, as if he could stop the pain of his skull from feeling like it was splitting in two.

Maybe it was, he thought dimly aware of the silhouette of the woman. For the most part the sight of her was blacked out by the brightness of the fire behind her, but the sides of her illuminated some, giving her the appearance of a fearless, brazen celestial being, glowing in the dark vastness. Or maybe more closely to the angel of death.

Trying to make a grab for his gun that escaped his grasp, he tried to block out that his head was spinning as he reached. But she was too quick for him, the heel of her boot caught his hand before he got within an inch, digging painfully into his palm, pinning it there against the floor. Her other foot moved out and kicked it farther away, making it bang against the bottom of one of the filing cabinets.

He almost made another grab for it, but paused as he heard the click of the gun as she trained it on him. Well, wasn't that nice?

"Unless you want to live, I suggest you don't piss me off."

Her eyes were blazing. Anger, hate, triumph, but most of all, pain. Her hand was shaking with the pain of her arm. And while her right arm wasn't her good arm, and it wasn't a bad wound, it still made the gun in her hands shake a bit as she held it with both hands. It might have also been that even with all her training, she didn't feel so comfortable with a gun in her hands. He could read that so clearly on her.

Harper only seemed to laugh in her face at her stature, even if there was a gun in her hands, ready to shoot him. "And unless you want to not end up hurting yourself, you might just want to put the gun away, beautiful," he told her, his eyes showing mirth in their murky depths. Again with the cockiness already. Hadn't she had enough of it from home? It wasn't like she needed it from here.

Gritting her teeth, she applied pressure to his hand once more, stomping on the bones and making him cry out in pain again. "Don't _test_ me," she growled out.

"C'mon, put the gun down, its no use, we both know that you're not going to kill me, babes, it ain't in you, you're not a killer," he taunted. His voice was almost a sing-song, like nails on chalkboard against her eardrums.

Her eyes just narrowed some, her brow quirking. "And I suppose you're one to know how to judge character, huh?" she questioned dryly, her tone giving clearly away to her annoyance, the distaste of his presence that was rattling away at her nerves.

"Prove me wrong, squeeze the trigger. You know you want too. Just a little _squeeze_. C'mon, do it, squeeze the trigger!"

He was trying to mind fuck with her. She knew he was. Trying to test her patience, wear them down to the bone, make her unstable. The sad part about it, was he was trying too hard. Yes, there was a part of her that wanted to squeeze it, get back at him for everything that she was trying to survive. But at the same time, there was a part that drew in the satisfaction that he'd get more then his bargain… If he stayed alive.

"Sadly, as much as that is tempting… I need your shitty little playgirl ass alive, no use if you're not breathing," she told him, trying to be unfazed by anything he was trying to pull. This chica knew a hell of a lot better.

A dramatic sigh escaped his lips, rolling his eyes before he looked back at her. His eyes on their own accord looked down at her shapely legs before moving up to the skirt, and then up to her, smirking at the sight of her snarl. "You're better off killing me now. If you don't, you'll regret it later."

"Really and why's that?" she couldn't help but ask. Mostly out of her own amusement. If there was a wayward way that he was trying to weasel himself out of this, she was really giving him too much credit.

But the smirk remained on his lips, neither unfazed but her as well. Not surprising.

"Because," he purred, as if he knew something that she didn't, like the cat that ate the canary. "An hour ago they left here with the… 'Package'. Everything's packed up probably by now and I'm pretty sure they're about to fly out this country, if they already haven't left yet…. Give up princess, even if you have me right here, you won't be able to contain me, especially without the disk," he told her, matter-of-factly, his face looking of glee.

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Eden began, making his attention focus sharply on her. "But about fifty minutes ago your buddies were intercepted by my guys, as soon as they entered their little warehouse you didn't think I knew about. I'm sure their on their way to find new living arrangements, but nothing on the scale of what you had in mind once you got your payday." The look on his face seemed to drop, his eyes widening with what seemed to be surprise, maybe even shock.

None-the-less, she reached into her pocket of her jacket. What she pulled out was something he really did not expect to see in her hands. The data disk. "Not only that but.. I switched it while you were too busy with playing your hair earlier, good slight of hand, no? I bet you didn't even realize." It was her turn to be a little cocky, just to spite the blond some more. After all the shit, it felt good, even with the rage forming in him.

However, her attention was turned upwards as the sprinklers decided at that time to go off. Her gaze fixed to the ceiling in somewhat stunned as the water rained down on them, trying to contain the flames that were still burning on top of the worker's desk.

The distraction was all Harper needed to disarm her. With a grunt, he kicked out his foot, catching her behind her legs, sending her flying backwards onto the hard floor. Her back hit the ground painfully, but not as much as her arm did as the tender and wound collided with the ground. Not only did the disk slip her hands, the gun escaped her grasp as her grip slacked, bouncing off the floor once before skidding away from her. Trying to make a grab for it, she was stopped as she felt him pounce on her.

Rough hands seized her shoulders and before she could help it, she was pinned beneath his weight. Her arms were held at an odd angle at the sides of her head, which made it painful because the skin of her arm stretching the way it was as they were being held by him.

Try as she might, she struggled against him trying her hardest to throw him off, or roll them over so she could regain some footing. But it was impossible with the slipperiness of the floor, the water still being discarded from the sprinkler system. If she put her feet on the floor and tried to move, her footing slipped, if she tried to move, she slipped. The only good thing about it was that he was having as much trouble holding her down, he was slipping too, as she was trying to get free.

"Where you goin', huh?" he asked, his face looking feral as he gritted his teeth and tried his hardest to hold her down. The pads of his finger tips, along with some nail, seemed to press into the skin of her wrists in punctuation of his words, causing her to wince slightly. "You're not going anywhere, that's where. Thought, you were going to get out of this scot free? Think again, babe, you're going to be dead at the bottom of the river by the time I'm done with you."

And there they went again with the psychotic edge. Gibbons wasn't kidding when he told her that she had to watch out for his bi-polar mood-swings. If allowed to, she would have laughed, but the tremor of almost terror seemed to root itself in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't a good feeling that she liked, there were times that she felt it before, when she got stuck in the undertow of waves of almost forgotten, when she nearly thought her lungs were going explode from lack of breath. Not quite comparable with being in the clutches of a mad man that probably had no remorse for killing anyone of his way of plans, but the terror was one in the same.

If she didn't pull something soon, she just might find herself joining that growing group of his.

And, maybe, just maybe, her prayers were answered with that thought, because just barely she could make out the sound of helicopter wings flapping. Not too far off, either. She could have been mistaken, but there was a feeling in her stomach that knew that it was the cavalry.

_Took their damn time_, she mentally chided, not that they could hear anyway.

Trying a bit harder to try and throw him off, she only succeeded in wasting more energy because quite frankly, she wasn't going anywhere. Not like this anyway, all soaked up with no where to go, trapped underneath pretty much deadweight. The odds weren't exactly in her favor, but that didn't stop her from moving, trying find maybe some leverage.

"It's not going to work. I got you right where I want ya and you're not getting out of this," he told her.

He might have been talking to a wall when he told her, because the defiant streak in her wasn't letting up. Eyes a blazing, she looked up into his face, teeth grit, and glaring. "You know what? You're too fucking _cocky_ for your only good." There were no other words that could have been spoken then, or he went to say something, but that was cut off. Because before he could answer her knee angled up and sharply hit in him the groin.

Going wide, his eyes went big, almost to the point where they looked as though they might pop out of their sockets, where his body went stiffer then a board, but also slacking to the point where she could wretch her wrists free. And she did just that, getting them out of his grasp as she kicked him off as hard as she could. This time there was no resistance as she went to scrambled away from him, nothing holding her back as he was practically writhing in agony on the floor in the fetal position.

Paying no mind to him, she tried to stand up on her own two feet. Only the action brought her back to her knees as the boots slipped on the wetness of the ground, screeching against the floor. Her knees collided with a wet smack on the ground with a ever so _pleasant _sting, with her hands following shortly thereafter. Some water splashed up, on her, but she ignored it, she was already soaked to the bone.

And instead of repeating her actions, not wanting to get the same effect as before, Eden literally crawled on the floor. There was no slipping on her part as she made her way towards one of the desks. Why did there have to be so many desks in this place? Oh right, she was in an office building, she reminded herself sarcastically.

Now there was the question of where her adopted pride and joy went. She'd thought it was right next to one of the chairs. Unfortunately, it wasn't where she originally thought as she finally reached it, glancing around the floor quickly. Growling to herself, she looked underneath where the base of the desk was, bringing her face down the floor. It took another moment but she spotted it laying next to the wall.

"Shit."

This day was just getting better and better.

Sliding her good arm underneath, she pressed herself forward to grab it. Just barely the tips of her fingers brushed against the safety of her gun, but still sit just that bit away from her getting it. Pressing more into the ground, she tried to push her shoulder more underneath the desk, squeezing her arm forward more. It wasn't much, but she could get her fingers just on the cool metallic surface.

Nudging it a few times towards her, she was able to get her fingers to wrap around it. Using the desk as leverage, she pulled herself up, steadily as to not slip. Yet, she had to pause as reached her full height again she heard the sound of footsteps and saw Harper standing as well in the corner of her eye.

"I wouldn't move if I were you. I would hate to put a bullet someplace that they would need to use your dental records to identify your body," Harper told her as he held the gun up.

Looking over at him, Eden's eyebrow rose. "There's only one problem with that," she said, a faint smirk appearing on her lips.

"And what's that?"

As if the answer of his question, her gun was turned on him in an instant, and fired. The result was a click of his own to return, but only the sounds heard where that of two clicks and a shot being fired as it echoed through the dangerously quiet room.

"There's no bullets in your gun."

Watching as he fell forward, Eden's eyes turned away, focusing on the windows. With a quick flash, a helicopter sped past the windows, it's spotlight shining through glass, brightly illuminating the room before it moved.

---------

A slow exhale of breath passed through parted lips, eyes focused ahead at no particular spot, just staring ahead at the night sky. For a moment the breath was caught halfway through it's course, pausing in her throat as the paramedic's hands worked carefully and precisely. Once the prick of pain subsided, Eden licked her lips, letting the breath loose and watching as it's sight lingered like a cloud in the air before dispersing. She instantly regretted it though as the cool air instantly attacked them, already feeling the sensation of then becoming chapped.

There was nothing like the late fall air, it was rather indescribable even if she had spent the last few weeks getting used to it. It seemed as of late she was getting used to a lot of new things with her… 'Job'. But was such was in the way of it, adapting. It was a change to say the least, a big change. No more warm weather, grant it, it wasn't the first time she had ever been in different climates. There were vacations with her family. Yet, that was for a week or so, not two months while during a mission.

It all was new to her. The routine. This being her second mission, first one on her own. Get the lowdown on what's going on, get transported to where one needed to go, get in with the bad guys, and then get what they needed that was required to complete, whether it was them or something. That was how at least this one went, the first was a simple snatch and grab that took a week, while this one too a quite a bit more.

Well, it didn't seem to go over too badly as the first had. Yet, it wasn't stopping Gibbons from running his mouth off, even if he wasn't sitting in the ambulance with her while she was getting her arm stitched up. Yet, the Sat-com gave off the same presence as if the man was standing right there in front of her.

Hissing a bit, she tore her gaze away from staring into space, ignoring everything and all that Gibbons was saying, while feeling the next little pin prick against the tender flesh on her arm. Pulling the blanket that seemed to be her only protection from the somewhat harsh coolness of the night, she tried to pull it against her more as she still was damp, and no doubt still looked like a drowned rat. Luckily Gibbons hadn't made a comment about that, or he had while she was off in la la land.

"- the files you recovered are currently being analyzed at the facilities. I attend to be notified within the hour of what they were able to be recovered. But all in all, I congratulate you on a job well done," he just continued to say a while she stifled a yawn. It might have been a minute or so that he let his words stop, or maybe a second, but he questioned her none-the-less. "Are you listening?" The question seemed to be a cross between annoyance and amusement, or one or the other. Eden didn't know, but it surely did snap her from her thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah," Eden mumbled a bit. While, she hadn't been listening, she didn't close off her ears entirely. She'd learned the hard way that he liked poke at the fact that she wasn't paying attention, once actually went as far as to somewhat to try to embarrass it in front of peers at some random meeting when she was sneaking Tetris under the conference table with her cell phone. Thankfully it was short lived. "Does this mean I get a gold star next to my name?"

Eden's comment came out rather dryly, drawn out, laced thickly with sarcasm. Maybe It intended to get a reacting of the man on the other end of the sat-com, maybe not. Either way, Gibbon's face held nothing sort of strange twisted amusement, his eyes dancing while the rest of him remained stoical. He was used to it by now, the comebacks, the witty jabs to insult him.

"Good, then I suppose you'll be able to give me a little tiny bit of information then? Something that we need?" he asked her, the scrutiny of his gaze passing full force at her, but it didn't faze her really. Instead the bored expression on her face remained, if a bit annoyed but not solely on him. Ever so slightly, her lips thinned a bit more, becoming stony as the paramedic sewed in another stitch, but she refused to grimace.

Blowing out another breath and relaxing again, she tilted her head at him, her brow quirking slightly. "What do you need?" she questioned back.

The sounds of keys being typed on the keyboard on his end was heard on hers. Nothing popped up for a moment, but there were a few beeps that sneaked over before a window showed up on her, the picture of his face minimizing into a window that was off to the side. The joys of government technology, she mused silently. Though, she went to hunch over, but paramedic pulled on her arm as she went to move to keep her in place. Shooting him a glare over her shoulder as she glanced at him, she didn't say anything though as she went to look again at the screen, squinting a bit as she couldn't get any closer.

"One of the folders on the disk needs a encoded password to access the files that are inside. Instead of having to call up my men and have them get to work on it, I was hoping as you might have an idea of what was. So you might as be as to kind as to save me the trouble?"

A few more clicks and a move of the curser was seen on the screen, before a prompt was given. _'Enter Cache of Pad Ruler' _popped up on the screen before her eyes. Stifling a snort, she shook her head.

"Is that all?" she asked, incredulously.

"You know what it is?" It was his turn to raise his eyebrow.

"I think it's kind of obvious," she told him, her face giving way to her bemusement. Once the paramedic pulled away for a moment, she reached her hand out and shifted forward to pull the sat-com closer to her from it's previous position on the other end of the little gurney. Though, she straightened back up to let the paramedic finish his job, but keeping her hand next to the keypad.

"Why? Did he tell you the password?" she heard him question, skeptically, and she had to roll her eyes. Was he shitting her? It was fucking simple as all hell, in a not kind of way. She would have thought that he would have known, Gibbons was after what? The head of the department now wasn't he? Shaking her head 'no' she huffed a bit, the exasperation building up. "Mind enlightening me?"

Settling her hand on the keyboard, she tried to not move her other arm much. "It's an anagram," she told him, noting the slight look of surprise as she pressed a button, if watching both his eyebrows raising slightly was an indication.

"What kind of anagram do you get from Enter Cache of Pad Ruler?"

"You don't," she told him typing in off to the side in a blank space. Typing in the phrase, she looked at his face, seeing the curiosity marring his features. "Or at least the one you want…. Enter of course is instructing you to… _input _'cache of pad ruler', right? Well, the 'of' isn't important, the emphasis is always on the actual words, so you drop off the 'of'…. 'the'… 'and', if there in there." Deleting 'enter' and 'of' , she left the result there for him to see, wondering if he already got where this was going.

"And what you're left with it is cache pad ruler which is the anagram of?…" she trailed off typing 'H', as if it was the easiest thing on the face of the planet. "Here, there's a hint."

"Harper Delucca," came his voice once again.

"Bingo… Or if you want to think ego wise 'ruler' kind of just puts it into perspective.. no? He thought so highly of himself. And while creative, using your own name is typical for a password anyhow. Even a first grader would be able to figure that out. But then he wasn't exactly what I'd like to call… smart." She bit off the last word a bit harshly, distaste stinging her tongue like a poison. Just the thought of the scum bag seemed to make her want to shudder.

Though, clearing her head she typed in the result in the prompt box. Another box popped up in it's place as the curser changed to an hour glass and loaded up the databank. After a moment the file list appeared with all that was on it. Files galore. "See? It's not stuff you need NASA to get their hands dirty with."

There was a small chuckle on the other end, what she assumed was the appreciated nod of the head. Ever amused wasn't he. "You're good, I'll give you that much." There was a particular glint in his eyes, one that she wasn't sure if she should have been glad or worried about.

However, the ever smartass that she was, wasn't about to end it right there. And maybe attempt to just to piss him off, too. He was enjoying this way too much. "How about you give me an extra month of vacation with pay and we'll call it even. How about it?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder and the man as he finishing the task of sewing her back together again.

As he pulled away to busy himself into something else, she rolled her shoulder, glad to be able to move it to get the stiffness out. It was a little sore from being poked and prodded further, but she'd had worse injures, recalling a few none too great surfing injures. Mainly a broken wrist, numerous dislocated fingers, and oh so many more stitches then she received this night.

Rolling her tongue over the front of her teeth, she looked back at the screen when he didn't answer right away.

She supposed it was his turn to not pay attention, as he was looking away from he screen. The sound of chatting in the background towards Gibbons was present, but for the most part she didn't know what was being said. Eden didn't care that he was speaking with someone else, business was important and shit. But when he didn't answer her for a few more moments, she cleared her throat, because quite honestly, she didn't feel like sitting around in the back of ambulance for what remained of the night.

Looking back to her, he looked almost annoyed, but it didn't seem like it was aimed at her. Or at least she hoped not. She just wanted to go and get out of here and let the clean up crew do their part. Hers was over with and not she wanted sleep the whole thing off. Maybe with some tequila, but not necessarily. "I'll think about it. But until then, we'll be in touch, Agent Masters. Rest well and heal up."

Before she could open her mouth to make any remark, he quickly ended the transmission. The screen and all it's information clicking off, before the screen went blank. In a hurry wasn't he? Shaking her head she pushed herself off the gurney and stood to her feet. Flipping the sat-com closed, she placed it inside the pocket of her skirt as she tossed the blanket aside. She was still damp but she was only going to go find car to take her out of here and she did have her jacket.

Picking it up from one of the seats, she pulled the long leather trench coat around her frame, pulling it closed as she moved to the back of the ambulance. Holding onto the side of the truck as she jumped down, she slowly made her way towards the group of agents gathered, conversing at the front one of one the various cars and trucks that were outside. As she moved closer, some went on their way back to work, heading inside the building that she couldn't have been gladder that she wouldn't be seeing it again after this.

Though, she paused a moment as she noted the one at the center of the conversation was still busy with conversation. Pausing a moment, Eden shifted her weight on to one of her feet, leaning onto the side of the car as she waited, crossing her arms, she knew better then to disrupt the flow of one of these conversations.

Yet, the one she was interested in seemed to sense her presence and looked up towards her, hurrying up and getting to the point of the matter. "As for the computers go, I want to have all from the twelfth floor on loaded onto the truck behind me. The others I want them placed in the back of the truck behind that. You have strict orders to have all the files confiscated, too, those will be put on the second truck as well. Any questions?" There was a moment of silence that erupted, with no one failing to hold it up any longer. "Good, I expect to have everything loaded into the trucks within the hour," he told them curtly, ending the small briefing.

The rest of the men took off without further instruction, heading up the steps to inside the building. Taking it as her cue, she stroke up once everyone had gone inside, once again making the much older man look towards her. "Agent Masters, what can I do for you?" Agent Donnan asked, his face frowning questionably, but in no means to seem unfriendly.

"I just got off the phone with Smiles. Gave him the lowdown on the situation," she told him, keeping her reply nothing short of business-like. Unlike Gibbons he didn't take her crap, or well he did but he was more of a jackass, and not nearly as fun to annoy. Normally she wouldn't have been so kind, but she was tired as all hell, and she just didn't want to be hassled any further.

"I suppose you need a ride out of here then?" Good, he wasn't dancing around the subject, she thought. Or maybe he was just as eager to get out of here as she wanted to be. In either case she was grateful on some level.

"Yeah, I have hotel arrangements. Would like to get there as soon as possible, if it's not too much trouble?" she inquired, her brow quirking.

"No worries, three cars down there's a car waiting to take you wherever you need to go," he told her easily enough. It seemed so simple, no distaste in his tone this time as there sometimes was.

Pushing herself away from the car she nodded. "Thanks," she replied, not sparing him another look as she made her way in the direction of her car. She brushed past him, moving down the sidewalk, pulling the leather jacket closed around her more, trying to block out the night's coldness some. There was a hotel room waiting for her at the Ritz-Carlton, and she was sure going to get the rest and relaxation that she wanted. After all this shit, she deserved it, especially on Gibbon's dime. She never stayed in a penthouse before, she'd cleaned plenty, but she was eagerly awaiting a nice marble tub and cozy king size bed of her own, never having the luxury before.

Though, as she strolled up, past a few more cars, she came up to a simple black town car. Oh yeah, they really had style, tight ass pains in the ass, but they had style when it came to automobiles, or sometimes at least. The last time they stuck her with some guy that was prancing around in a black Cadillac.

Letting her hand trail against the smooth black surface, seeing the distorted reflection of everything mirroring in the glossy paint, barely registering as the driver's side door opened and a more then familiar face stepped out.

"Way to go Edenster, working it up like a top agent," the voice said, catching her attention like a pin drop in a quiet room.

Oh fuck no.

"Kicking ass the womanly way. And oh so finely I might add," Shavers just continued to say, shutting the door behind him as he moved up to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Merely narrowing her eyes at the man, she gave him a very stern look before opening her mouth to him.

"Get away from me before I hit you."

The hand was off her shoulder quicker then a Russian invasion.

* * *

**NSA  
Remote Intelligence Facility  
Mt. Weather, Virginia**

Releasing his finger that was set firmly set on the small circular button on his own device, Gibbon's gaze was not fixed on that, but rather the man that was still standing before him. As soon as the picture of his agent was off the screen, the mask of him trying to hide his great displeasure slipped fully away, giving away the full extent.

It was one thing to see him amused, or see the side that took pride in the job. This was unfortunately not one of those moments. It was one of those moments that he disliked more then picking up the scum of those that oppose for what he stood for. It just had to be one of those moments.

"Now what is so important that you needed to speak to me about?" Gibbons questioned the other agent that stood before him.

The other man was tall, almost coming off with an air of calmness in his stance. Yet, before Gibbons, he got the distinct impression that he was quaking in his boots, for reasons that he wanted to know. The man was new to the division, having only worked in level five for the past month, and quickly moving up the ranks.

Like everyone else that worked behind the scenes, he wore a similar suit that was almost as finely pressed as his, if a bit disheveled. But then, for the past few years, the man was part of the military, which would explain perfectly the straight-forward posture that rolled off of him in waves. He would have no doubt looked better in a commando uniform.

Clearing his throat, he folded his hands in front of him, keeping his chin held high as he looked ahead, but not meeting Gibbon's gaze, which annoyed him just a bit further. He needed to learn how to look someone in the face. "Agent Triple-x has finished his job in Madrid, sir. Unfortunately with some… 'Minor'… repercussions," Agent Amado told him. It came out strongly in his voice, if for the undertone of a quiver of nerves. Did he think that the was going to reach across the table to strangle him?

Though, he held his tongue to wait for a further explanation, though he was apparently waiting for him to signal him to continue. "Repercussions?" inquired Gibbons, raising his eyebrows to make him spit the rest out.

"There was a problem and one of the buildings that the target was in… A bomb detonated."

"How is Agent triple-x and why was I not notified of this sooner?" Gibbons returned again, slamming his hands on the desk as he stood up behind his desk, reaching his full height. He was touchy with his Agents. Sure, his now two main ones were thorns in his side, but some twisted way he admired them. They were like kids. His kids. He trained them, prepared them for the worse, twisted them into an image of what he knew and hoped they could be, and sent the children out to do the work like the weapons he intended them to be like.

It was shameful to think of their loss of anything but crippling. Any of his agents really.

"He's fine, sir," replied the agent, shifting his weight onto either foot, uncomfortably. "He made it out of the building mere seconds before the explosion toppled the entire top of the building. He crashed through one of the glass windows, managing to swing himself down from the building to the top of the one next to it."

Always the one to pull a stunt in the craziest of situations. Knowing he was fine was a relief, but didn't lift his mood to the point where he felt any margin of difference.

Flipping a few manila folders that were open on his desk, closed, he didn't spare him another glance as he moved around his office, trying to get it somewhat organized. He had a feeling he would be stuck behind another week's load of paperwork and reports by the time he was doing cleaning up his agent's mess. "Get him on the Sat-com in the conference room immediately, I'll be there in ten minutes," he told him, moving to the big filing cabinet and placing those he had inside.

"Sir?" the agent spoke up again. But there was a change of tone. More clipped and hesitant this time around. He was afraid of something, he could tell.

Letting the drawer close with a loud metallic clang, only then did he look back . "What Agent Admado?" He was losing his patience with this man, especially when there was a pause in his answer again.

The agent swallowed. "He's in main observation area."

------

With practiced haste, Gibbon's pace was hurried to the point where he was nearly jogging down the blue lit hallways. The tail of his suit flapping silently against his back as he moved, almost giving him the appearance of a man on a mission. And technically he was.

Making it down the levels was a pain, and to literally make it down in less then two minutes was a feat that you would only expect from him. Out of everyone here he took the job the most seriously and barely left as much room for error as others managed to. Even despite the fact there was an error staring him down right in the face. There wasn't hell to pay, today at least, but there were answers that he wanted.

Coming to the metal door in which the map of the world had red filled in on the European countries, Gibbons held his hand up, holding it up to the laser identification unit. Once read the doors slid open, the electronic voice sounding the acceptance of his self into the room, he walked inside, looking around.

There were many agents buzzing around while there was information, as always, loaded on the various screens lining the walls. Some of which he knew what intel it came from, but for the most part, it wasn't in his line of business. But it wasn't the information on the screens that he wanted. It was from the man sitting in the middle of the room with his feet propped up on the edge of a desk, with his hands folded behind his head in a relaxed manner.

As per usual he was dressed in his regular attire that consisted of a no-name band t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots. Any man of respect would have dressed up like everyone else here, or at least covered the atrocious tattoos, but then he wasn't the usual man. And Gibbons wouldn't be surprised if he never touched a tux or anything of the sort before. Hell would probably freeze over before that day came.

As if sensing his presence, the younger man inclined his head to look over at him. He grinned the shit-eating grin that he always liked to broadcast on his mouth.

"Gibbons! Just the ugly face I wanted to see."

* * *

_**Tbc….**_

**AN:**

So what did you think? Sorry so little Xander in the chappy, but I love building up anticipation. It's like a drug. If you're lucky you'll see some interaction with our two main characters in the next chapter, but as it's still up in the air on what's going to happen, I can't promise anything.

But until next time… Leave me reviews! I love hearing feedback.


	3. Flying in the Dark

**Disclaimer:**

I own nothing but the plot. Everything else belongs to Universal, and god help me I wish I worked there, but I don't. If anyone wants to sue me go ahead, you'll only receive a bucket of lard.

**Summary:**

To combine two different people from two different worlds is a very unpredictable event. It could blow up in your face if not handled correctly, yet there is the hope that in the end everything will turn out right. To work together and save the world one stunt at a time is their mission. Now if they don't kill each other in the process.

**A/N:**

I have crawled out from the rock I was hiding under. A bit more of a filler chapter here and probably the next one to follow will be too, and a bit shorter then I'd like... But still enjoy!

* * *

_  
"C'mon Eden, let's go!"_

"_I'm hurrying," she muttered under her breath, slamming the car door closed behind herself. Everyone was in a goddamn rush today for some reason. Which, there really wasn't a reason for it. It was early, anybody who was anybody, or not, wouldn't be here for at least another half hour. The sun was just barely done with surfacing entirely over the horizon, everything still tinted in the all too familiar scheme of blue._

_However, few people were already there, but not even going near the surf, yet, just sitting on the beach with their boards, admiring what she assumed was the view of the ocean in the early hours of the morning. Wrinkling her nose a little in distaste at their slack, she turned her attention back to the car as she pulled on the waist of her shorts, which crept down from sitting in the car._

_Picking her surfboard off the holder on the top, she pulled it free as the others quickly took their own and started off before she could even open her mouth to offer some remark. What the fuck was with the rush? She continued to think, frowning some as she swung it underneath her arm. She reached through the window to make a grab for their beach bag pulling it from the backseat and onto her shoulder._

_By the time she went to look over at the two blonds, they were out of the parking lot already. They hadn't paused one bit, not even stopping for her like they usually did. "Fine don't wait for me." Annoyed wasn't a word for really how she felt. Eden wasn't necessarily annoyed, but they could have at least stopped for a moment, or was that not courtesy anymore? It suddenly seemed as though going off the rock now changed everything between the trio._

_Nothing was as it was before._

_Licking her lip, Eden took off after Lena and Annemarie, after in the direction of where they jogged off to, across the street and onto the beach. She had to stop though, waiting for a car to pass, which really only made the distance bigger between them, before she too crossed the damn street. Again, they didn't wait for her, the only sight of them to her were of their backsides, and their boards, as they continued on with their journey. No faces, no glancing back at her. Fine let them single her out then._

_The girls were a few good yards ahead of her still, by the time she tried speeding up, and she briefly wondered how they got so far ahead of her so quickly, then as she took notice of it. It baffled her, it was almost as if the sand wasn't holding them down as they jogged, as she battled it with each step. But she pushed the thought away as they stopped in their usual spot on the beach, dumping their things off on the sand, their ankle-belts fastened to their ankles before eve Eden made it down there to them._

_And even sooner were they heading off into the surf._

_Reaching the spot where their sandals and bags were thrown carelessly onto the sand, she looked up not very amused that they still hadn't stopped for her. On top of that, they went out without even stretching. It was a surfing ritual they always partook in, only no one was partaking in it now. "Where you guys goin'?" she called after them, but they didn't hear her or ignored her. What the fuck was goin' on with them today? Really…_

_The frown that was already firmly planted on her brow just seemed to deepen as she put her stuff with the others. Fastening her leash to her ankle as the two had done, she straightened up, shielding her eyes with her hand as she tried to catch a glimpse at the two before she hoisted the surfboard under her armpit and took off to them. They were already in the surf, battling the crap waves that crashed up close to the shore._

_Her pace was quick as she jogged, unhampered on the wet sand as she made it to the water, managing to make up a little distance as they tried paddling off to get through to the good waves. The surf brushed against her, cooling and caressing her feet as she met the shore. continuing to run out until the water reached her knees, Eden lay on her board, kicking off and paddling her arms out on either side, feeling the salty air and water around her. The feel was almost in intoxicating._

_Pushing both her and the board underneath the water, she avoided a lesser wave as it threatened to brake over her, ducking to get out of it's destructive path. She sucked in breath, holding it as she felt the water around her, feeling it's current, but not being disrupted by it. Instead, she poked up out of the water like buoy, floating back up to the surface on her board._

_As the water peeled down her face, not longer obstructing her vision, not too far away she caught the sight of the other two stooges, doing the same as another wave came closer. They ducked in sync, surfacing at almost the same time as it passed and came nearer._

"_C'mon!" she heard them call again, this time they actually looked back at her. She was coming.... she mentally grumbled, trying to push further. Yet, she continued to paddle out, keeping her eyes on the two as she squinted as a little salty water splashed up in her face. But it's affect was nulled a moment later. All she needed was to get past the incoming wave and she'd be even with them._

_Taking a breath as it got near enough, she dived down into the water, missing it's power yet again. It seemed like almost an eternity though she dove farther then she should have, her lungs not burning, but giving warnings of so. Coming up once again, her face breaking the surface, she shook her head, trying to dispel the water that was obstructing her vision before looking around._

_But something was terribly wrong._

"_Guys?" she called out, sitting up on her board as she looked around the water, it's face glistening with the sunrays like diamonds. And that was all there was. Her, the waves, the water._

_Nobody else. So surfboards, no Lena... no Annemarie._

"_Yo, this ain't funny. Where are you?" she called out, looking around, trying to find them, a feeling forming in her gut. But there was nothing but the silence. Not even the sound of the waves crashing as they did before her, as she saw them, knocking the preoccupied woman over and off her board._

_The water surrounded her, instead of it's warmness, against her skin like a thousand knives. Hot or cold, she couldn't tell, it didn't matter. It paralyzed her with the fear, letting the wave pull her underneath the water's grasp, twisting, pulling, spewing her around like a ballerina. Only it wasn't a dance, it was something else. Something completely wrong._

_Trying to regain some sense of self, she kicked, trying to push herself towards the surface. This time it really felt like an eternity. But her will to survive pushed her on. She didn't want to die. She wouldn't. She would reach the surface._

_Which she break after another long moment. Taking a lung full of air she breathed in life, her lungs calling breath to them as she looked around, seeing her board hover very close to her. Reaching out, she tried to pull herself to get on it, or at the very least steady herself somewhat instead of choking on the sea as she tried to breathe._

_Her hand caught it, but all too soon a wave splashing over her before she could realize, pulling her under. The last sight she caught was of the beach. Empty. No one standing on it as she could have sworn they were before. No people. No one was there._

_She was alone._

_----_

At the sound of the ring that emitted out through the room, the woman's eyes jerked open, as her body went ridged beneath the layers of sheets that enshrouded around her. Her veins frosted over with ice, pouring through every cell and pore of her being as her heart sped beneath her flesh, as her eyes quickly darted around the room. At the unfamiliarity of it all. Of where she was.

The world was no longer that of grainy, sandy beaches, water as clear as glass filtering underneath an even bluer sky. Nor was the comforting feel of the friends that were always near to beckon her, instead that was replaced with the sheet lain with sweat that caked itself on her skin.

And then it hit her faster then a douse of ice water on her waking form.

With a sigh, Eden collapsed back into the comfort of her bed, her hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes. She tried to force the effects of the dream from her head. It was just that, a dream. Nothing more. But telling that to her brain wasn't working. As most dreams, it felt real.

But it was only a dream, she continued to remind herself. She wasn't in the water about to drown, half way across the world from where she was supposed to be, where everyone was glued to. Instead, she was in a place where the only sounds were that of passing cars and sirens of any police patrol vehicle seemed to whiz past the apartment complex. No longer did the echo of nature seem to reach her eardrums.

No, but even that couldn't compare to the sound of lightly beep that bounced around the walls of the very empty apartment, the quiet subtleness magnifying it louder. It nearly startled her, until she registered what exactly it was. Rolling onto her side, she looked over at the cellphone that set perched on top of the small nightstand next to her bed. The usual amount of messages noted on the tiny, thumb-sized screen were usually none, yet instead of seeing the time dancing on the small indicator screen, it was illuminated with the words '1 missed call'.

Someone had called while she was sleeping.

It was probably Gibbons. The man always liked to rain on her parade when it was time for her to go back home. Whatever he was interested in this time, she didn't care. It was time for her to go on her 'vacation', if it could be considered that, telling the whole world to fuck off for the next two months because she didn't care. No doubt he'd call back however, no use trying to be eager to hear what he wanted to say when she wasn't.

Shoving the white cotton sheets off of herself, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing it off the night table. Pausing and checking her clock, which read almost exactly ten o'clock, before standing, however, she stretched a moment, trying to loosen and wake up her still laggard body before getting up and off the bed.

The floorboards creaked under her weight as she walked, heading over to the dresser where they were a few shirts neatly folded and lain out on the top. But she wasn't interested in one of those. Instead, her dark eyes settled on the one that was tossed disheveled next to the others, a dark, over-sized sweater that was crumpled all but in a ball. Gingerly, it was picked up and thrown over her small frame, engulfing her like the night from neck just about all the way down to her knees. It was big on her, way too big, but she liked that, she didn't like feeling of be constricted. Besides that, it was way to cold for her liking in the small apartment, even with the heat on.

Turning the handle on the door, she scuttled through into the hallway, getting hit with another draft of cold air. Unconsciously, she shivered, rubbing at her arms as she went down the corridor, trying to fight back the goosebumps that broke out across her flesh. She felt chilled, almost to the bone, while it wasn't all that much cold to warrant so, but with the draft that seemed to flutter through the house like a ghost, against her clammy skin it nearly felt like knives.

The source, she realized, was one of the windows in the dimly lit living room, darkened by the blinds that were pulled all the way down, casting shadows across everything within it's reach. Her hands tugged at the blinds string, pulling it down as the blinds went up. For a moment she squinted as the bright light of day reached her eyes, taking a moment to adjust to see what lingered outside.

Beneath was the late morning traffic, faint beeps of horns and engines rising from down below, where a land of snow and ice also littered the ground. Like little toy cars it seemed as she watched for a moment, passing the apartment complex and disappearing into the city, before she reached to pushed down the half-open window closed, the sleeves of her shirt pulled up just to the cuticles of her nails as she lent over and pushed it all the way down.

She sighed a bit, rubbing tiredly at her face as she turned the knob to the heater up a few more degrees. She'd slept longer then she had for the past week, but it still felt as though she'd gotten only a few hours.

None-the-less, she strayed away from the inviting bed that seemed to taunt her as she glanced towards the doorway and instead moved through the living room. It was bare for the most part. Simple. That would have been a better description for it, it was very simple. There was nothing personal about it, nothing that would have given life to the fact that it was a place she'd been living in when she wasn't off else where. In fact, it looked more like hotel then an apartment.

White-washed walls, white sofa, a cherry wood coffee table sitting in front of that, a lamp stand to match, but other then a few surf magazines, some DVDs and a vogue, there was nothing else of hers. No picture frames lining the walls, no shelves filled with books, candles. It was plain, much like the rest of her apartment that was fitted in the same hues.

Scratching behind her ear, she filtered into the kitchen, her attention solely concentrated for the moment on one of the finer points of her home. Pulling open the refrigerator door, the light went on inside the contraption, showering food products with dim light as she shuffled the contents around. Which in all, wasn't a lot. A carton of milk, a carton of orange juice, some beer, bread, a few condiments, there wasn't much in the way of food. Then again, she hadn't had much time to buy much outside of the essentials, which she'd ran out of by then.

She reached out to grab at the carton of orange when the cellphone began to buzz again, vibrating in her hand while the James Bond theme began playing in high pitch. It nearly made her jump, some concentrate in her task, as she used her foot to kick the fridge door closed. She moved, coming to then stand in front of the counter, setting the carton down on top of it. Glancing at the little screen, she watched as it came to life to display the one name she was learning to despise. Gibbons.

The name was ceasing to surprise her whenever someone called, because usual it was him. Not anyone else, that was for sure. The geek called her once in a while, but that was just him being a pain in the ass about mission shit, nothing to be bothered with about now, thankfully.

However, she paused a moment, her hand stilled in motion from flipping it open. Part of her was tempted to just let it ring, ignore him. He really never brought anything good to the table when he reared his head. But she couldn't just turn her back either, the other more righteous side seemed to perk then, besides the fact he would just keep calling until she picked it up anyway. The man was mad reciliant, she thought.

"Yeah?" she spoke into the receiver, raspilly..

"Do you always answer your phone so courteously, Agent Masters?" Gibbon's voice rang out on the other end, smugly. She didn't have to see him to know he was amused. One way or another, even if she was bitching at him, he took it like sugar. And quite honestly, she didn't know what he was so amused about. But then she supposed if she had people at her beckoning called, twenty four hours, seven days a week, ready to do whatever she wanted, she probably would have been just as smug as the bastard.

Hefting the phone into the crook of her neck to free up her hand, she unscrewed the cap. "Only when it's you," Eden replied, taking a swig straight from the carton, letting the sweet tang dance around her tongue. Swallowing, she smacked her lips, loud enough that she was sure that he heard it over the phone.

"I trust you're awake," he said smoothly, as if he wasn't trying to get under her skin, which he was. The words made her lip curl in annoyance.

"I am now, thank you very much," Eden told him with mock-appreciation, her words ringing true with sarcasm, thick and heavy. If he had been in the room, the look that she gave the wall instead of him would have put him six feet below, and then some.

"Good."

Sliding one of the magazines that was lain on the counter, she slid it in front of her as she took another sip of her orange juice. It was as if she could distract her away from the fact that she was talking to him on the phone. However, that was literally impossible, but she continued to read the outdated by seven months reading material. "Yeah... 'Good'. Somehow I doubt this is a social call, so what do you want?"

She could instantly feel the grin in his face over the phone. "What gives you the impression that this isn't?"

Turning one of the pages in the book, more like flopping the pages, she pursed her lips. "Oh, I don't know... Maybe the fact you conveniently like to leave those for when I'm awake," she told him matter-of-flatly. "Mind enlightening me?"

"Very well," Gibbon said with the utmost calmness. "There's some things that need to be attended to-"

"No. Hell, no," Eden interjected before he could say another word. She knew where this was going. It was going someplace where it wasn't welcome.

"It is not thought very highly of to interrupt someone before they complete their sentence, Agent Masters."

"And it's not very fucking polite to call me up now. Whatever shit you're sellin' Gibbons, I'm not buying. My vacation officially started two days ago. You know our arrangement. This is my time off. I'm getting on a plane tomorrow and I'm. Going. Home," she droned, pronouncing each syllable as if she were talking to a small child. And Gibbons sure not a child, he was a smart man, a very smart man. But that didn't mean that she didn't feel like she was explaining herself to one... Or rather how she used to talk to her mother when she didn't get what she wanted.

"Yes, you will be."

The words halted all her thoughts. For a moment, Eden's hand paused as she looked away from the magazine, her face scrunched up slightly, while her tongue ran over the front of her bottom teeth. He was back to not making sense again. "You just said-"

"I didn't get to finish because you keep interrupting me," he told her, doing the interrupting this time. However, his demeanor remained ever passive. "If you would kindly let me explain. I have more important dealings to attend to," Gibbons told her then, this time a tiny bit of warning lacing his words.

Gritting her teeth, she resisted the urge to raise her eyes to the ceiling. She was silent, not saying anything, trying to come up with a better course of action. Yet, none turned up. There was no way of getting out of this. Briefly, she wondered why she joined up with this organization in the first place.

After another long moment of silence, the Latina sighed. "I'm listening." Though, she was not at all pleased.

"Are you now?"

"You want me to hang up?"

A huff of a snort echoed through the receiver and into her ear. "Let's just say, you'll be going on your vacation as planned. However," Gibbons trailed of as Eden went to open her mouth, as though he sensed it even with the couple of hundred miles between them, the question of what he was getting at, dying on her lips. "I need you do some surveillance for me."

"Gather intell," Eden mused aloud, seeing exactly where this was going. Bringing her mouth away from the carton again, she swallowed the last remains of the orange juice. "Who the hell in O'ahu are you after, Gibbs?"

The nickname did not phase him. "At the moment I am not a liberty to say. You'll be further briefed once you reach your home," came the prompt reply. Oh, yeah, she'd heard that line a few too many times before.

"What else you got up your sleeve?" Eden couldn't help but ask then, running her fingers through her messy mop of hair, absently noting to take a shower. Fingering the long, curly ends, she twirled it ever so slightly, her mind no so entire into the task as she waited for his answer.

He told her to check her mail.

Shuffling her long legs across the floor, she scuttled towards the door to the apartment. Moving into the small opening hallway, she noticed something small and almost orangey gleaming underneath, wedged between the bottom of the door and the floor. An envelope, she noted, reaching down to the scoop the piece of parchment between her fingers. A plain, simple envelope, there was no writing on it to say who'd left it or what was inside, no return address on it either, the paper was literally untouched except from the creases of her picking it up.

Gibbons was written all over it.

"This isn't just an recon job is it?"

The reply was the same: 'I am not at liberty to say.' And there was nothing more that she liked to hear then hearing a broken record before he warned her that her plane left in an hour, that she better hurry. A sound of the phone being hung up and she was already on her way to her room to pack.

* * *

**Los Angeles, California**

**7:03AM**

The shrill sound cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. It traveled along, it's sound ricocheting off the un-plastered, brick-bared walls. Muffled ever so slightly it was, yet it still managed to make it destination to the figure laying in the bed.

Stomach to the mattress, the figure's large limbs hung over the edges, shifting ever so slightly as the sound ceased, a soft grunt emitted in his chest, reverberating through the pillow that his face was buried in. Like a great lion, he stirred a little more before he stilled once again, whatever consciousness slipping from his form again, his body going slack with fatigue.

But it was to be disturbed again as the sound went off a second time, becoming insistent against the sleeping brain that was starting to wake, resistant to do nothing more then to sleep over the previous night's events. He pulled the pillow out from under his head tiredly before covering his ears with it, trying to block out the explosion inside his skull that flamed to life with every ring, though he did his best to ignore it, block it out.

However, what ever the sound was, it didn't agree to him laying in bed, and instantly became more nagging as pushed sleep further and further away. Who ever the fuck was calling was going to pay dearly.

Trying to not move from his comfortable position, his arm reached out to find where the contraption was that contained the disturbance, swatting blindly at the night table that sat next to the bed. Knocking over some items in the process, he pushed around those that didn't feel like the one he wanted. Something slipped off, 'clunking' noisily to the floor. That wasn't the damn phone either. Coming up empty, the sound just continued to reign out, attacking his all two sensitive, hangover brain.

Yet after another moment, it finally ceased.

Hefting a groan of relief, Xander dropped his arm down away from the stand, moving his body into the middle of the bed to get more comfortable. Just as he settled himself again, the phone went off again.

"Mother-," Xander began, muttering obscenities under his breath as he opened his bleary eyes, blinking a few times before the world came into focus. Apparently, some sleep was too much to ask.

Another a small pause, he pushed himself up to sit, rubbing the back of his neck where the infamous tattoo rested. Along with the others that were forever imprinted into his flesh. He could care less about them at that moment, however, the throbbing in his head just continued, making him feel like he had a mariachi band playing inside his skull, even worse with the light shining in his head. Just sitting there he looked over his shoulder, staring thankfully at the empty space, thankful the bimbo he'd shared his bed with the night before was gone. As so many had before.

One less person to be awoken by his damn fucking phone, he reminded himself.

Mentally shrugging it off, he reached for his boxers, putting them on easily enough before he went treading through his home. Stepping outside the door, he froze as he took in the sight of the world outside his bedroom.

"Damn..."

That was one way of putting it. It looked as though a tornado of beer cans and food came barreling threw. Posters were knocked off the walls, toilet paper was thrown over the ceiling fan which was still spinning around, some of his shelves were knocked off the walls, and all his chairs were knocked over. In all, it looked as though everything was thrown into a blender and turned to the highest speed before being dumped out.

Could have been worse though, he reminded himself.

Not sparing it much more thought, he kicked cans out of his path as he went deeper into the Unknown, better known as his living room. The sound became louder then, not heaping his throbbing head in the least. He tried to listen still, pin point where the fucking contraption of hell was, which with all the shit lying on the floor and furniture, made it as always, nearly impossible.

Though, after another minute of listening, he finally found the culprit in the back pocket of his pants. Which so happened, that it was among all the garbage on the floor, thrown carelessly as it had when he'd been so eager to take them off.

Without another moment's hesitation, Xander flipped the Sat-com open, the familiar face popping up on the screen. This was definitely not the face that he wanted to wake up to see in the morning. If at all.

"This better be good," Xander mumbled a bit,

"I hope I didn't disturb you, Xander," Gibbons said promptly, calmly, no edge to his voice at all. If anything, there was only a slight tilt to his head as he looked expectantly at the other man.

"That's a bunch of bullshit 'n we both know it." No, if you asked him, Gibbons purposely liked to call at the wrong times. But then, there was never a good time for him to call. "But for the record, yeah. You did. Was in the middle of sipping a Corona on an island, far, far away...from you," he told him, looking down at the Sat-com in his hands, as he moved his feet through the piles of garbage. Taking a seat, he pushed all the junk that was on the couch cushion to the floor, not helping the mess one bit.

"Funny you should mention that."

"Yeah?" Xander in turn replied, as if he was interested in what he had to say. Unfortunately for the man on the other hand, he wasn't. Setting it down on a clean spot of coffee table, he hunched over some, one elbow resting on top of his thigh. "Well, what the hell do ya want, Scarface? I got two women on that island waiting for me to get back to 'em."

"Have you checked you're mail today?" The suave reply just came rolling out of his mouth easily. Too easily.

Though, the question made him quirk his brow.

"What do you think?" the ever smart-assed retort came, face frowning then along with it.

"I think you should check your mailbox," Gibbons told him, hinting along. But Xander knew. He knew Gibbons a long enough time that he knew when something was fishy. And he had more then a vivid idea of what exactly, what the damn bastard wanted when he came knocking. But that didn't stop him from trying to see if he drive other man's patience.

"Mail don't come till afternoon," Xander told him then, relaxing back into the chair, ignoring something semi-sharp that was sticking him in the back. His arms stretched out above him, curling back before his hands rested behind his head. He gauged his reaction, face remaining stoic, while inside, he was smirking.

"I believe you know I'm not talking about just regular mail."

Yes, there was no such thing as regular mail in the NSA's eyes. No, they were personally delivery parchments. Of course, he never saw them being dropped off either. No trucks pulling up, no people dropping them off... He didn't know how they did it either, considering he'd never seen, or anyone drop it off. Probably with their reach of hand they had some sort of... ninja United States Postal worker that would drop it off without making a ruckus. Though, as much as it was entertaining to think, he didn't think gibbons would be as creative to do so.

But he still didn't make a move to get up, just looked intently at the other man. "And I believe you know that no mail comes inside this house till afternoon, when I like to check my mail."

"Well, I think you should," the other man told him, voice just hitching a bit. He didn't seem to show it just yet, but he knew he was starting to hit the right buttons. Even though the other man would never blow his top, he was too full of himself in Xander's eyes to.

"And if I don't feel like checking it," he pressed further, darting his eyes away from the screen, picking up a beer bottle that had yet to be opened off the floor, twisting the cap off with a quick jerk of the hand. Didn't matter it was warm like bath water, beer was beer in his eyes.

"You know the alternative."

Xander snorted loudly as he took a sip. "Yeah, and you still owe me for the last windows you busted. Can't you guys use cleanlier ways of entrance? Like I don't know… Maybe using a door? Or is that too sophisticated for you crack jobs?"

"Triple-X..."

"I mean... you don't see me comin' around your house, busting your windows in when I want you do to do something for me," he told him, pointing his index finger at his chest in emphasis, still holding the beer bottle in his other fingers. Not that he'd bother to even do it, however. Though, entertaining the thought nearly brought a grin to his lips, just his.

A faint eyebrow raise and Gibbons was on him again. "Keep pushing it, Xander... you might not like where you'll be waking up next."

There was the warning again. But he still was unfazed. Been around it enough to know when to push and when not. When he was crossing the line of Gibbons's patience. He really didn't need to have the crew coming in again. He didn't feel like calling the cleaning bunch again. Though, JJ would surely bitch to no end at him if he just left it.

Finishing his beer bottle, he sat it atop the stand next to the couch. Waving a hand at him at him dismissively, he stood from the couch. "Yeah, yeah... keep throwing around your idle threats, " he muttered, crossing around the couch and towards the building's side door. Still, however he was in the line of sight of the Sat-com, he'd made sure that he'd placed it so.

Mumbling something incoherent as the stark cold splashed against all the bare skin, he chided himself mentally that he didn't put something else on besides his boxers.

Not stepping outside fully, he opened the door just enough that he could reach his hand into the metal mailbox. Being nailed in the brick right next to the door, Xander didn't have to step fully into the cold as he reached to lift up the black lid, dipping his hand inside to collect the bounty.

No surprise was to see the manilla folder rearing its head as he brought it out, the shiny clasp holding it closed. Pulling away the lid closed again, a scrap of metal on metal emitting as he turned and shut the door closed after him.

"So, I take this as a sign that my resignation didn't go through again?" Xander asked this time, looking at the contraption that was sitting arrogantly on the table. Digging his nail under the clasp, he lifted the flimsy holder, one and then the other.

"Hawaii?"

* * *

**  
Tbc...**

**A/N: **

Please leave a review! I'd like to hear some feedback!


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